Between Epsom & Cheam, we saw from the train a great fire in
the direction of London. A pyramid of red flame on the horizon, sending up a
column of smoke that rose high in air & then spread, like that over Vesuvius.
At Carshalton, where the villagers were gazing in crowds, as at all the
stations, we heard that it was by London Bridge, at Cotton's wharf. At New Cross the
reflection of the firelight on houses & walls began to be visible; & as
we drove along the arched way into town, the whole of Bermondsey was in a blaze
of light. Every head was thrust out of window, and the long black shadows of
train and telegraph posts made the bright road look brighter.
Arthur Munby, Diary, 22 June 1861
Under the fallen floors of the warehouses and in the cellars underground was
a vast quantity of combustible material. Casks of tallow yet remained to melt,
while numberless bags of saltpetre and casks of oil and turpentine, with
hundreds of tons of cheese, butter, sugar and bacon, were yet unconsumed. And
still the people came in fresh thousands to view the sight. Dawn of Sunday found
London-bridge still thronged with cabs, omnibuses, carts, waggons ,and vehicles
of every description. Peripatetic vendors of ginger-beer, fruit and other cheap
refreshments abounded, and were sold out half a dozen times over. Public-houses,
in defiance of Acts of Parliament, kept open all night long, and did a roaring
trade, and so, for that matter, did the pickpockets, who blended business with
pleasure, and had a ready hand for anything remunerative in their particular
line. But the fire, fortunately, had done its worst, though the flames continued
to surge and roar with unabated fury for some time, the intensity of the fire at
length visibly slackened. The efforts of the firemen were redoubled, and by four
o'clock on Sunday morning all danger of its further extension seemed at an end.
During the whole of Sunday thousands upon thousands of people flocked to see the
ruins.
The scene of the calamity on Sunday presented all the
appearance of an earthquake, rugged masses of brickwork and mounds of rubbish
meeting the eye in all directions. In one direction might be seen a huge pile of
cayenne pepper bags, sugar, ochineal, and hams; in another, mountains of
half-consumed barrels of tallow, emitting a most noxious effluvium, and on
turning round you confronted burning and smouldering barricades of jute, hemp,
leather, cordage, sacks of potatoes, cheeses, sides of bacon, all intermingled
in chaotic confusion. A great number of boats were busily occupied in scooping
from off the water the large floating masses of tallow; one of the crews of
these boats sold the amount thus obtained for 30l., another 18l.
and so on, while that portion of the river-side population commonly called
mudlarks were filling old sacks, saucepans, baskets, and other utensils, with
the same materials. The value of the tallow shovelled up from the road and
pathways in Tooley-street and taken away by the dust contractor is estimated to
amount alone to several thousand pounds. The whole of Sunday and Monday was
occupied in carting it away.
Reynolds's Newspaper, June 30th, 1861
see also Alfred Rosling Bennett in London and Londoners - click here